


I, Gal Pal

by HopelessHeartless



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Does she like girls or not, F/F, Female Friendship, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gals Being Pals?, Jaehee can't take a hint, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Sexuality Crisis, Some Humor, Useless Lesbians, Wingman 707
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 12:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18969073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopelessHeartless/pseuds/HopelessHeartless
Summary: MC is tired of guessing whether she's got a shot with Jaehee. Whatever it takes, she and her trusty wingman 707 are finally going to answer the big question: does Jaehee Kang is sapphic?





	I, Gal Pal

There was an absurdity to the contrast between the way Jaehee dressed for business and the way she dressed for leisure. On weekdays, she was always pressed and proper in a button-down blouse, neatly tailored jacket and narrow-hemmed pencil skirt. Today, a Saturday, she arrived to the café in an oversized black jersey and jeans. MC had seen the transformation a thousand times, yet every time she had but one thought: _God, she looks gay!_

Yes, despite her distaste for stereotypes in most cases, MC could not help but feel that Jaehee fit every obvious joke imaginable. The short hair thing wasn’t her choice, of course, but it certainly didn’t help MC avoid assumptions. When she wasn’t preening herself for the office, she wore not a stitch of makeup and often just threw on a flannel or some other lesbian sight gag of a shirt. Some days—like today—she even wore a pair of chunky brown boots that may well have been Doc Martens.

Jaehee was the very picture of an executive Monday through Friday, and a one-woman softball-rugby-roller derby team on the weekends.

And _yes_ , MC knew that none of that really meant Jaehee was a lesbian. After all, she’d met plenty of people (herself included) who weren’t entirely straight and they didn’t follow any sort of prescribed style guide for queerness. She also knew that Jaehee’s physical attraction to Zen was quite real, albeit non-romantic. Yet despite logic and experience, MC believed she simply must be right. Not just to prove she wasn’t crazy, but to validate her longing. If Jaehee weren’t interested in women to some small degree, well, how could she ever reciprocate these maddening feelings?  
  
It wasn’t like falling in love with a confirmed straight girl where all that’s left to do is get over it. It was falling in love with a total question mark, a completely blind misadventure, like groping around in the dark for a doorknob you’re only pretty sure exists. With every empty grasp, you become somewhat sure, then barely sure, then not sure at all. MC didn’t really like the idea of labels, but _if only this goddamn doorknob had a label!_  
  
From now on, MC had decided, she would do everything in her power to find that doorknob. It didn’t matter what the label said, so long as it wasn’t “no girls allowed.”

“Am I late? Did you order already?”

“No, no,” MC assured, though the truth was yes, by 23 minutes. “But I ordered us each a latte. I hope that’s all right.” _I hope yours isn’t cold._

“More than all right. I need this so badly today,  you have no idea.”

Jaehee squeezed herself into the other side of the booth and lifted the foam-topped cup to her mouth with desperation. This state of disheveled refueling was, MC had decided, Jahee’s truest form.  
  
“So, what’s got you all worn out this time? Quashing a scandal? Wine tasting in Tuscany? Organizing Jumin’s paperclips per his request?”

“I’ve had three-hour meetings with Mr. Han every day for the past week.”  
  
“…That’s it?”

“The _senior_ Mr. Han.” MC winced and yanked a napkin from the tabletop dispenser.  
  
“Yikes. Here, cry into this.” Jaehee crumpled the paper and tossed it, smiling, at MC’s face.  
  
“You’re the worst.”

“I know. The Guinness Book people keep calling, but I’m just too awful to respond.” MC smoothed the napkin back out and slipped it half-assedly back into its place as though someone might actually use it. Jaehee sighed and crooked her neck back and forth, stretching taut and tired muscles.  
  
“Well, it may not have helped much, but at least I got to sleep in this morning.”  
  
“Good! I’m glad. I keep telling you to come over and nap on your lunch breaks.” _Not that I have any ulterior motives._

“And I keep telling you that I snore and it would be embarrassing.”

For whatever reason, MC wasn’t really the blushing type. Jaehee, on the other hand, had already gone pink. It gave MC the upper hand, and she took full advantage of it.  
  
“You embarrass too easily. You know, Jaehee, you’d be a very eligible bachelorette if you had a little  more confidence. I know Zen belongs to everyone, but surely there’s someone else out there who catches your eye.” MC ended this attack with a wink, certain to fluster the target and weaken her defenses. But there was no blush, no hesitation. Jaehee only chuckled pleasantly.

“You sound like my mother. ‘Jaehee, when are you going to find a man?’ Well, I do a crappy impression of her, but you know. She’s one of those people who’s a total stereotype, you know?”  _Oh, the irony!_  

MC wound back up, then pitched again.  
  
“Hey, maybe she’s asking the wrong questions. ‘Jaehee, when are you going to find a woman?’” _Gotcha._

“Oh my god, that is hilarious! You are completely spot on! You haven’t even met my mother!” Jaehee laughed between licks of her foam-covered lips.  The tongue threatened to derail MC’s thoughts. “Do another one. Say something like ‘you’re getting fat, what are they feeding you in that office?’” 

“But you’re not fat.”

“I know, but, you know, moms say those things. Just say it! I bet it sounds just like her!”

MC wanted to tell Jaehee she was perfect, that she’d be perfect even if she did put on weight. For the moment, though, the insult behind the words seemed far more important.  
  
“Jaehee, moms don’t just say those things. If that’s the kind of stuff your mom says to you, she sounds like kind of a jerk. No offense.”  
  
“Ah, none taken,” Jaehee said, waving it off. “She means well, though. She really does. Like with the dating thing.” _Yes! Back on track. No more time for asides._ MC ran a finger around the rim of her coffee cup because it seemed like the kind of thing a pretty girl would do in a movie to busy her hands. She also hoped it would be suggestive somehow.

“Well, what do you like?”

Jaehee paused for a moment, squinting thoughtfully into a spot somewhere above and behind MC’s head

“I like someone nice, someone ambitious. Definitely someone who likes coffee.” Jaehee nodded contentedly to punctuate the end of her sentence.

 “And physically?” _Please say it’s boobs._  
  
“Hm. Doesn’t really matter. Someone attractive, I guess?”

“Which entails?”

“I don’t know, just attractive! Nobody can be Zen, of course, but I’d like there to be some sort of physical chemistry.”  
  
“Okay, sure, but what specific traits do you like? You know, for example:  Seven is into shapely butts and thighs, and Jumin is apparently into long whiskers and fur. What do _you_ like?”

There was another long, thoughtful pause with unfocused squinting, but still no hint of a blush.

“I like a nice smile. And pretty eyes.”   _Whoop-de-doo!_  
  
“Okay, pretty eyes like Yoosung’s or pretty eyes like mine?” MC fluttered her eyelashes, hoping Jaehee would catch her drift (yet knowing she wouldn’t).

“You are ridiculous. And you both have very nice eyes.” _What the hell does that mean? What are you, an optometrist?_

Fortune favors the bold, they say, and MC was certainly one of them. With the brazen precociousness of an unattended three-year-old, she placed her hand atop Jaehee’s and squeezed it gently.  
  
“Well thank you, Jaehee. I think yours are nice, too.” The voice of reason in MC’s skull screamed something about regret. MC panicked and took her hand away with an awkward giggle.  
  
“Ohmigod, I’m so weird today! Ha!” _No! Why? Stop!_ “Seriously, can you imagine?”   
  
MC could definitely imagine. She imagined all the time. She could not un-imagine it. Now, thanks to having pulled what was essentially a “no homo,” she had not only erased the progress she’d made toward the doorknob, she’d stepped outside the room and gotten on a plane to Utah to live with the Mormons.

“It’s okay,”replied Jaehee, still innocently unaware of the chaos unfolding in MC’s body. “We’re all a little weird today.” Jaehee was always making excuses for MC’s awkwardness. It was one of MC’s favorite things about her. 

For the next half hour, MC steered away from pushing too hard. The conversation came easily as always: recent news, funny memories, cracking jokes at Jumin’s expense. Eventually, Jaehee scooted her way out of the booth.  
  
“I’m going to hit the restroom. Watch my stuff?”  
  
“I won’t even charge you this time.”   
  
“You’re a peach. I’m going to get another latte, too. This one was really cold.”

Jaehee’s “stuff” boiled down to a set of keys and a smartphone. MC lazily observed her keychains: a repurposed cell-phone strap featuring a small purple hedgehog, a weighty silver monogram (“J,” of course), and a— _helllllooo, is that a pink triangle?!_  
  
MC’s pulse quickened. She reached out to touch it, fingers quivering nervously as though Jaehee would reel suddenly around the corner to scream “snoop!” and lead the other patrons in pelting MC with scones. Her fingers touched the edge of the pink acrylic shape, slowly creeping over its face to grasp it tenuously, and when she turned it over—

It was a happy little slice of watermelon. 

MC pounded her fist against the table in frustration, causing the keys—and their coffee cups—to jangle and clatter noisily. A nervous little man at a corner table made an irritated face, and when his eyes were on his book, MC made the face back.  
  
She pulled out her phone to find several unread text messages, all from Seven.  
  


**707** : how’s it going?

**707** : did you make out yet??

**707** : ???????? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ??

**707** : I am DYING OVER HERE I need information

**707** : DOES JAEHEE KANG IS GAY OR WHAT??? 

  
MC eyed the restroom doors in the distance. With the coast clear, she snapped a picture of Jaehee’s anthropomorphic watermelon.  
  


           **707:** What the hell is that? Am I supposed to know this or is it some sort of lesbo in-joke?

**MC:** It’s a watermelon with a face, and no  
  
**MC:**  Jaehee went to take a whiz and I thought this was some kind of gay-ass pink triangle keychain until I flipped it over   
  
**MC:** You have no idea how utterly dashed my hopes were in that moment T__T

**707** : KEYCHAIN TROLL LEVEL 100  
  
**707** : I’m DEAD

**707** : This is amazing  
  
**707** : Seriously, R.I.P. me XD XD XD

**MC** : More like R.I.P. my vagina

**MC** : Wait   
  
**MC:** No

**MC:**  That looks like I said something else

**707** : RIP YOUR VAGINA?!?! OUCH  
  
**MC** : Goddamnit

**707** : There’s this thing called lube, you should try it sometime  
  
**MC** : Die in a fire

**707** : Holy shit, I wish

  
Jaehee was already climbing back into her seat with her second latte by the time MC looked up. MC jerked involuntarily in her surprise, launching her phone up and out of her hands like a slippery cake of soap.  The accompanying noise drew several concerned looks.

Jaehee picked up MC’s phone and handed it somewhat cautiously back to her.

“Whoa, sorry. You okay?”   
  
“Ah, yeah, fine. I just—I was texting Seven and I didn’t see you come back, so—and when I looked up you were just like—BAM! Like, right there in my face like BOOM!—it was—ha—you know how it is, when you get— Like, AHH!—am I right?”  
  
Jaehee was already too lost in her own phone to notice MC’s burgeoning psychological breakdown.

“ _Shit_. Jumin wants me to stop by his place as soon as possible to discuss some crap about cat wine. What the hell is cat wine?”  
  
“I can assure you, I do not know.” Jaehee stood and sighed.

“Well, whatever it is, I hate it for taking me away from you right now.”   
  
MC’s innards flopped about. _Do I even dare to hope?!_

“It’s jealous. In fact, I think all these cat businesses are conspiring to break us up.”

“Trust me, MC,” Jaehee said warmly, placing a gentle hand atop MC’s head. “There is no cat-related project in the universe strong enough to break our friendship.”  
  
_Our friendship. Of course._

MC walked with Jaehee to the counter, chit-chatting as she transferred her latte to a to-go cup. Then, she walked with Jaehee to the door.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Jaehee said, readying her keys. “See you soon?”

MC nodded and spread her arms for a farewell hug. She didn’t bother to interpret the duration of the hug, nor how tightly Jaehee squeezed.  Where she might normally have combed through every millisecond of their interaction for signs of romantic interest, MC simply let them fall away and be forgotten. _A hug is a hug._ _It’s not enough.  
  
_MC watched for a long time, though she couldn’t see beyond the next intersection. When she was certain Jaehee was safely to her car, she turned and went back inside.   
_  
_ What made MC feel small was not that Jaehee thought of her as a friend; they absolutely _were_ friends, and MC was overjoyed to know it. What gnawed at her insides was an unfulfilled desire for the kind of friendship that grows into a deep and abiding love, the kind of friendship that provides the structure for an honest and profound romance. MC did not want to be “more than friends.” She wanted to be friends with Jaehee for the rest of her life. She simply wanted them to be in love, too.   
  
When Jaehee was gone, MC slumped back down into the booth and picked up her phone.

**  
MC:** Seven, be honest with me

**707** : I’m out of practice, but I’ll do my best

**707** : Wut up

**MC:** You think she’ll ever be into me?

**707** : ...that’s a little heavy for me to answer, don’t you think?

**MC** : Just say what you think, dude, please  
  
**707** : …

**707:** I don’t know

**MC** : Great  
  
**MC:** Neither do I

  
There was a long pause. Seven couldn’t find the right words, and MC couldn’t find any words at all. 

**  
707** : U gonna be okay? :(

**MC:** Duh!!!   
  
**MC:** I’m grown, this kind of stuff doesn’t affect me like it did when I was a hormonal teenager

**707:** Atta girl! Kick ass and take names!!!!  
  
**MC:** Hell yeah! I got 99 problems but a crush ain’t one  
  
**707:** Booyah! Now I’m off to work land!  
  
**MC:** Good luck! I’m gonna head back to my bachelorette pad in a minute 

**MC:** Thanks for being my wingman!

**707:** Anytime *finger guns*

  
As soon as he closed the messenger, Defender of Justice 707 began disabling the cameras in Rika’s old apartment for the night. He didn’t mind standing guard for MC, but damn it, he wouldn’t watch her cry again.

 

 

 

 


End file.
